


Wine

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Collars, Dom/sub Undertones, Ficlet, Jealousy, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 03:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19737487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ravus looks at Ignis; Noctis doesn’t share.





	Wine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MistressOfLions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressOfLions/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for MistressofLions’ “smutty ignoct fic with some BDSM thrown in, also since I love how you write vampire!Noctis I'd love to have that in there as well. I just want something where maybe someone was flirting with Ignis and Dom!Noctis just gets all snarly and possessive and just has to stake his claim on Ignis all over again. Biting is naturally a thing I'd like but a collared Ignis scratching Noctis' back while being taken would just be icing on the cake” request on [my dreamwidth](https://yeaka.dreamwidth.org/1190.html).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

When the conference is over, the delegates spill into the hall at varying speeds. Ignis is deliberately slow, allowing the greater nobles to go first, including his prince, who stops to wait for him. By the time Ignis and Noctis make it outside of council chambers, there are only a few others left. Most are grizzly old men that ignore them. One is a relatively young man, silver-haired and handsome, who Ignis half expects to rudely elbow them aside on the way to the elevator. Instead, Ravus comments as he passes, “It’s good to see you again.”

Ignis falters. Years of diplomatic dealings allow him to keep his expression neutral, though if Ravus were anyone else, he would raise a brow. He doesn’t answer with sarcasm, though he’s sure the initial remark must have been sarcastic. He counters with a polite, “You as well.”

“You’ve grown quite a bit,” Ravus notes. He’s stopped walking too, and now Ignis understands why they’re getting cordial treatment: it’s meant _only_ for Ignis. Noctis has stopped just a few steps ahead of them, but Ravus doesn’t so much as glance at him. Instead, Ravus’ eyes are all over Ignis, drawing up his body before settling on his face. “I am sure I will be seeing you around the Citadel during my stay.”

Ignis curtly nods. He knows what Ravus is silently getting at. Ravus spent a fair portion of the conference looking his way, but he hadn’t presumed a reason. They’ve spoken only a handful of times over the years—they never knew each other like Ravus knew Noctis. If Ravus should be speaking to anyone, it should be the prince. But that obviously isn’t where Ravus’ interests lie. 

Some small rebellious part of Ignis clenches in delight. Not because of Ravus. Because of the consequences of even this chaste moment. The rest of Ignis is more mature, and more loyal, so he doesn’t allow it to continue. 

He holds out his hand as a means to end the conversation. Ravus frowns but takes it, shaking it once before Ignis bids him, “Good evening, Lord Ravus. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

Ravus answers, “And you,” with an air of annoyance in his voice. 

Ignis couldn’t stay any longer if he wanted to. Noctis cuts in with a sharp, pointed, “Bye.”

Ravus’ expression darkens. Ignis doesn’t get a chance to mend the situation, because Noctis is walking swiftly away, and of course, Ignis falls obediently into step. 

They walk in echoing silence to the elevator, where Ignis turns to see the doors close on Ravus’ retreating figure. Noctis hits the button, and Ignis notes that it’s not the lobby one. 

He asks, “Are we not going home?” And he makes a point of saying _we_ , very much including himself in that. Originally, he’d expected to drive Noctis back to his apartment and feed him dinner, then, at Ravus’ extra interest, Ignis had expected to drive Noctis back to his apartment and spend the night. Given the tension in the air, Ignis certainly _hadn’t_ expected Noctis to stick around the Citadel for work. 

Noctis tersely answers, “’Can’t wait that long.” And that tells Ignis that they’re not headed for Noctis’ office, but the personal quarters he’s always kept _just in case_. He rarely visits them, let alone spends any time in them, which lets Ignis know how serious this is. 

The elevator lets them out in another elaborate hallway that they stoically cross. They pass one maid who bows to Noctis. For that specific possibility, they stay professional.

Then they’re in Noctis’ quarters, he’s locking the door behind them, and all professionalism goes out the window. 

Ignis steps out of his shoes and tries to shed his jacket, but he hasn’t even got it past his elbows before Noctis has spun around and slammed him back into the door. Ignis’ breath is knocked out of him, his spine stinging from the impact. Noctis wedges right up against him, eyes dyed red and _burning_. A physical shiver runs through Ignis. With Noctis’ hair oddly neat and his toned body impeccable dressed in a rare black suit, he looks particularly ravishing. His gaze cuts into Ignis like a knife, and Ignis can already see Noctis’ canines slowly changing as he talks. Noctis all but growls, “He was _all over_ you.”

Ignis doesn’t deny it. It was only a few innocent looks, but perhaps Ravus has developed something of a crush. Ignis finds it flattering. And, more importantly, he enjoys his partner’s response. Noctis can be a lazy, casual lover, and Ignis loves him that way, but it’s wildly _hot_ when he gets this possessive. That’s when Noctis’ dominant side rears its gorgeous head. Ignis is pliant under it, quiet against the door as Noctis begins to pop Ignis’ buttons open. 

Noctis parts the collar of Ignis’ shirt, revealing the actual _collar_ underneath, and he lets his fingers trace over it as he mutters, “I wish you’d worn something with a lower neckline so he could’ve seen this... so he’d know you were already _mine_...”

He wouldn’t have been able to read the pendant across the table. It bears Noctis’ name, but in tiny, elegant silver letters. As Noctis grazes the tender skin around it, Ignis asks, “Isn’t the whole point that only _you_ may see my throat...?” That, and to hide the temptation from even Noctis. He has a tendency to over-drink when he sees Ignis bared, and as much as Ignis would gladly give everything to his beloved prince, he knows Noctis does _try_ not to take too much. 

Ignis would never give anyone else a single drop. He’s Noctis’ alone and always has been. Noctis must know that. Ignis is hardly subtle in his devotion. But Noctis still glowers like the mere _thought_ of anyone else touching him is deplorable. 

At a maddeningly gradual pace, Noctis unfastens the collar. Ignis can’t help a quick intake of breath as it slides off his neck, curled in Noctis’ hand. He wears it so much that his throat feels naked without it. He feels _exposed_. Noctis looks at him with such unadulterated _hunger_ that it Ignis is instantly hard. 

He licks his lips and murmurs, “Noct—”

He’s cut off by a shallow but lingering kiss. They part, and their eyes connect. Noctis’ ice-blue irises have been entirely claimed by crimson. His fangs are fully out, and that turns Ignis on far more than it should. They’ve gone so far past Ignis’ initial offer to simply serve his prince. He tilts his head aside, making the invitation. 

Noctis loops one arm around his waist, flattens him against the door, and bites into his throat. It isn’t the careful, gentle nip that usually comes, but a full, wide _crunch_ that has Ignis gasping. His skin _burns_ as Noctis slices it open, sinking down so deep that Ignis’ knees shake. It _hurts_. But the flesh around it tingles, heating, flushing, and the _pleasure_ seeps in too. 

Ignis wraps his arms around Noctis just to hold on. At first, he’s just bracing himself. But then Noctis gulps him up, and Ignis is scrabbling for purchase, clawing at Noctis’ shoulders. Noctis takes from him without mercy. His blood races from everywhere it can to feed Noctis’ hunger. Noctis is insatiable; he drinks and drinks and only holds Ignis tighter. Ignis is sure he’s leaving scratches on Noctis’ back right through the fabric. He can barely breathe, and he’s distantly aware that he’s been screaming, although that might’ve been a moan. 

Noctis takes him to the very edge. Ignis’ vision is starting to blur, his mind wavering just on the edge of consciousness, and then Noctis wrenches right out. Ignis whimpers. Without Noctis latched onto him, he doesn’t have the strength to stand. 

He slides down the wall, falling onto his rear. Noctis lets him go. Noctis stands over Ignis, pants visibly indented, tongue licking up the leftover blood left on his lips. Ignis _adores_ him. 

When Noctis has finished savouring his treat, he reaches down to curl a hand beneath Ignis’ chin. Noctis tilts him up and purrs, “You’re so _beautiful_ , Specs. Especially when you’re drained from pleasing me. No wonder Ravus wants you.”

Ignis doesn’t even have the energy to say that he’s only ever wanted Noctis. 

With a cocky grin, Noctis adds, “Of course, I’m the only one that can have you.” His grip tightens. “You’re _mine_.”

Ignis is _so_ grateful that Noctis follows him down. Noctis kisses Ignis’ cheek, then comes in to claim the rest.


End file.
